


Last of a Dying Breed

by KaiserNoire



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Marching Band, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Nerd Keith (Voltron), Punk Shiro, Sheith sing and it’s cute, minor appearance of Hunk and Lance, same age sheith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-14
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2020-10-17 08:01:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20617676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaiserNoire/pseuds/KaiserNoire
Summary: Keith is one of the marching band drum majors. Shiro is an exchange student and plays the bass guitar.The marching band needs a bass player.





	Last of a Dying Breed

**Author's Note:**

> I got a Curious Cat prompt for nerd!Keith and punk!Shiro trying to flirt and getting flustered. There's more flirting than getting flustered in here, but I still had fun with this fic! Also. It's kinda a song fic near the end. I'm not sorry. 
> 
> Note: fic title and song bits that are inside are from Fall Out Boy - The Last of the Real Ones  
Yes, Shiro might not actually listen to FOB if he's a punk, but hey you know what, he's got eclectic tastes and I make the rules in this au so! 8D

When the new school year started, Keith had been surprised to hear a rumor about the new boy at his school. New students weren’t uncommon, but this one was. Especially because said boy was (supposedly) well over six foot and built like a linebacker. _And_ wasn’t actually on the football or rugby teams. Which… _what_?

As the day went on a few members of Keith’s close knit group of friends told him more and more information. 

New Boy was in Matt’s Calc 3 class. Was in Hunk’s guitar class. Was in Pidge’s Earth/Natural Sciences class. And at one point Lance wandered by the lunch table that Keith shared with a few others to say that this boy’s name was Shiro. Which had a ring of familiarity to it, but Keith couldn’t place why.

Keith nodded once Lance relayed the information, expecting that to be the end of it. But still Lance hung around, like he had something else to say. 

“Yeah?” Keith prompted, cheek in one hand as he slumped over his own Calc 3 book, getting a head start on their homework that Mr. Kurtz had assigned that very first day of school. (In Mr. Kurtz defense, he assigned a packet of _all_ their homework for the year at the very beginning of their class with a “This is a self paced class. So, go at your own pace with this. Let me know if you have any questions. Enjoy!” The first few pages were just review so Keith wanted to get them out of the way ASAP.)

“Keith, have you even _seen_ this guy?” Lance prompted as he leaned his palms flat on the table, hip cocked out to the side. 

Keith blinked. “No? I can’t say that I have. Why does that matter?”

“Keith, buddy, pal—”

“I’m not your pal.”

“Compadre.”

“Ugh.”

“If you _saw_ him you would know why I’m making such a big deal of this.”

“You make big deals out of _everything_—”

“_Hey_!”

“What? It just sounds like he’s pretty smart and plays guitar. Not that I really _care_, but—” 

“_But_ you should _see_ him!!”

Hunk poked Keith’s side. “Lance is right, dude, you should actually see this guy.”

Keith huffed and reached up to retie his hair in the ponytail that sat the back of his head. “And what’s in it for me?”

Lance and Hunk made eye contact. “Well,” Lance drawled out, “Marching band needs a new bass guitar, right?”

Keith rolled his eyes and grunted in the affirmative because, yeah, Lance was right. Their bass graduated just that past spring. And even though Lance wasn’t in marching band, he just _knew things_. Granted being co-cheerleading captain with Allura meant that Lance _extra_ knew things, but still. 

“Yeah,” Keith puffed out. “Yeah, ok. What table is he at?”

Turns out that Perfect Hair Shiro hadn’t been at a lunch table. But rather in the band room. 

_Of course._

Keith made his way to the very familiar room and as he drew closer he heard the plucky keys of an electric keyboard and then a synth that sounded like it had been put on the loop function. Shortly thereafter the smooth grumble of a voice reached Keith’s ears. The tone of the voice ached to be singing at full volume, but kept quiet. 

_“I was just an only child of the universe_  
And then I found you.  
You are the sun and I am just the planets  
Spinning around you.” 

Keith rounded the corner and started down the hall that dead ended in the band room right as a three piece band joined the fray. Keith guessed that some of that was a drum machine and maybe a loop or two. Sounded like someone was having fun with the tech in the band room. Not like Keith could blame them really, thanks to their award winning marching band, there had been a surplus of new tech.

And then the voice continued to belt out.

_“You were too good to be true_  
Gold plated.  
But what's inside you.” 

Keith reached his destination. The door to the main part of the band hall was wide open, and a _very_ tall and _very_ broad boy shook his whole body to the music peeling from the high-tech speaker system and who’s body was smack dab in front of a two layered electric keyboard slash synth setup, a very sharp and aggressive guitar strapped to his front. His back was facing Keith, but just from a quick count of the tuning pegs Keith could guess that this was the bass player that everyone seemed to have stories about today.

_“I know this whole damn city thinks it needs you.”_

Keith’s eyes dragged across the boy. Nobody told him that this Shiro had platinum hair in a long mohawk, stylishly quaffed. Also, everyone seemed to have left out the fact that Shiro was a fucking punk. The black t-shirt that the other wore had purposeful rips along the back in the shape of a skull —Keith couldn’t help shifting against the doorframe as he watched the back muscles ripple under the strategically placed tears— and the ripped tight black pants were held up by a studded belt.

_“But not as much as I do,  
As much as I do,_

_yeah”_

And then with a quick jump off the tiered ledges of the hall, away from the tech setup, Shiro turned around right as the chorus kicked in with a bang. 

_“Cause you're the last of a dying breed.”_

Keith’s jaw dropped. He knew that face. He knew this boy. His hair and clothes were different, but Keith knew him. And Keith watched as, with eyes pinched close, Shiro sang a few refrains, hands moving deftly across the frets and strings. 

_“Write our names in the wet concrete.”_

After a few lines Shiro’s eyes gently opened, and that’s when he noticed that he hadn’t been alone. He made burning eye contact with Keith for a millisecond of a breath and Keith felt the air knock out of his lungs.

“You,” Keith pushed out. “You’re back.”

A devastating wink was his only response as Shiro belted out the next verse, singing it right at Keith. 

_“I’m here in search of your glory_  
There's been a million before me  
That ultra-kind of love  
You never walk away from. 

_You're just the last of the real ones.”_

Shiro continued to strum away at the bass in his hands as he let the music play in the background. “Hey, Keith,” Shiro rasped. 

With a stern expression, Keith made his way over to the rack of guitars, plucked a cherry red out —his own custom model— flicked it on, and quickly made his way to the keyboard. After a few clicks, the wail of his own guitar filled the air instead of the synthesized one. 

And he turned right to Shiro, singing at the top of his lungs. Shiro’s head bobbed to the music that tumbled out to meet them. 

_“I am a collapsing star with tunnel vision  
But only for you, but only for you.”_

Keith’s voice became more pained, a slight aggravated tone to it, full of emotion as he sang on. 

_“My head is stripped just like a screw_  
that’s been tightened too many times  
When I think of you, when I think of you.” 

“Keith,” Shiro breathed out as he continued to move his fingers.

But Keith just pinched his eyes closed as he fiercely shook his head. A motion to let him finish, his own hands making quick work of the fretboard. 

_“I will shield you from the waves if they find you  
I will protect you, I will protect you.”_

And with a hard flick of his head upward to make unbreakable gaze with the taller boy, Keith belted out the next few lines. 

_“Just tell me, tell me, tell me_  
I, I am the only one  
Even if it’s not true, even if it’s not true, 

_yeah.”_

The deep indigo of Keith’s eyes flashed with a passion that hadn’t been there since Shiro had to leave.

_“Cause you're the last of a dying breed.”_

The chorus droned in the background as Shiro flicked his wrist to send his bass slapping against his back, allowing his front to be free. 

“Long time, no see, Kit,” Shiro said as he shifted and shoved his hands in his pockets, the necklaces resting on the front of his shirt clanking softly.

Keith pulled his own guitar to lay across his back, and looked to the side as a prominent dusting of a blush graced his cheeks. “You have lost the privilege to use that nickname.” 

“Oh,” and Shiro shuffled his feet. “Why?”

“I’m upset with you.”

“I thought you would be happy that your best friend was back for senior year?”

Keith fiddled with the leather of the guitar strap that lay flat against his chest. “I am happy.”

“Normally, happy Kits give me hugs?”

With a slight clatter of Keith’s guitar —which was rare for him— he tossed the instrument onto a nearby chair and raced to Shiro. And with firm arms bracketing the smaller boy against his chest, Shiro tucked his face against Keith’s neck.

A mumble from Keith that was directed right on Shiro’s chest met his ears. “What was that?” Shiro asked. 

Keith turned his head slightly. “I’m glad you’re back.”

“Me too.” And broad palms smoothed against Keith’s back.

“But I’m still upset with you.”

A deep chuckle rumbled in Shiro’s chest. “I know you don’t like surprises. That was on me.”

“You bet your ass it was.”

“So,” Shiro started as he slightly pulled away from the other, “you finally snagged a drum major position, huh? Perfect for our senior year.”

Keith looked a bit shy, which those who knew him knew that only Shiro could bring that look out of the boy. “Yeah. Me and Nadia got the spots.”

“I heard on the morning announcements. I’m proud of you, Keith,” Shiro said as he tucked the other against him once more. “Now, you only need a boyfriend.” Keith’s body went ridged in Shiro’s grasp. “When are you gonna get a boyfriend, Keith?” It was laced with such a teasing lit that Keith groaned. 

“_God_,” and Keith pushed away from Shiro, hands on his chest as he tried to wiggle away. “Not you too! Mom keeps bugging me!”

A cheery laugh met Keith’s ears. “Your mom and I always did see eye to eye on a lot of things!”

“_Ugh_! I take it all back! Go away, Takashi! I don’t miss you anymore!”

“Nope, too late!”

___________

Keith saw Shiro again during their advanced placement English Literature class. 

“Why didn’t you tell me that you guys needed a bass player?” Shiro greeted as he placed his messenger bag on the desktop, and shrugged off his leather jacket. (Keith still wasn’t sure how Shiro got away with one of the patches on the back, which read, “Fxxk God. Believe in yourself.” And then a smaller one under that said, “And if you can’t, I will.” But Shiro always did have a way with the school administration.) 

“Why didn’t you tell me you bleached your hair? Or that you were gonna be here? Excuse me for getting a little distracted.” There was a level of playful brattiness to Keith’s tone, but the smile on his face told Shiro that it was all in good fun.

Shiro laughed as he shoved a hand though his hair, tussling it a bit. “Okay, fair. Is it okay for me to try out?”

Keith just shrugged, adjusting the hoodie sleeves so that his thumbs poked through the cuff holes. “Free country.”

That made Shiro scoff. “Kinda, but I won't go into that.”

Keith puffed out a snort as he plopped into his chair. “Are you an anarchist, Takashi?”

“Maybe.” And Shiro winked.

“As long as you are the same Ta-kun with me then you can be whatever the fuck you want.”

“That’s the spirit!” Shiro said as he rummaged in his bag. “And wow, bringing out the old ass nicknames, huh? I haven’t heard you call me ‘Ta-kun’ in years.”

“You started it by calling me ‘Kit.’”

“I called you Kit when we talked over the phone two days ago!” Shiro huffed out a bit louder than he probably should have.

“Mister Shirogane!” The teacher voice rang out, “And the rest of the student body! Welcome back to English class.”

Keith snickered.

**Author's Note:**

> This was one of those fics where I would totally be down for writing more of the AU. Let's see if that ever happens! 
> 
> ________
> 
> I mostly just scream about sheith.  
[Twitter](http://www.twitter.com/kaisernoire) | [Website](Http://www.kaisernoire.com)


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